His problems he told; I’d heard them before
And on he went his tears were flowing
Yet stoppered was my heart
I said to him, ‘Why dost thou struggle,
and mention them again and again?’
He replied, ‘Can’t you see
This thing mattereth a lot to me?’
And broken I felt for I hadn’t seen,
I had looked from my vantage point, not his
Though it had mattered little to me
A gentle ear of mine, patient, meant the world to him
This is the truth, then, the fact of life
Every man, is given their experience
And the man who is wise,
Who has only one pair of eyes
Closes his vision,
To peek into others
And in so doing,
Gains a million vistas
And a million hearts, a million friends,
And a million experiences
No comments:
Post a Comment